The Green Ones

Episode 1, Part 20

So far, whatever instinct I’ve been following has kept me alive. I trust that instinct to bring me back to Olin. An arrow darts past my ear. At first I think the probe is launching some sort of projectiles, until I realize an entire colony of free-tailed bats has descended on our location to feed.

Swarming through the branches of the massive ahuehuete, the bats confuse the heat readings of the probe. A second pulse disintegrates the top section of the tree, some forty meters above, showering me with needles. Sliding feet first, I arrive at Neca’s side as he draws his first complete breath.

“I said,” he grunts as I heave him to his feet, “split up.”

“I heard you. Now shut up and run.”

The bats begin to disperse. When the probe gets its next clear shot, there won’t be time to know we’re dead before it’s happened. Several strides behind us, the base of the massive ahuehuete disappears, pulverized by a pulse. A spray of sap slashes across my back, followed by the snapping of branches rushing toward us through the forest canopy.

I hit the ground again, the outer branches of the tree knocking me off my feet and pinning me. I’m lying on my back, able to see the shadow of the drone and its blinking red eye as it swoops into the opening left by the felled tree. I hold up a hand, as if I could block its destructive force like deflecting a rubber pelota. Internally, I’m in disbelief. How can I die now? Like this?

Instead of nothingness, lightning fills the sky above me. Sparks burst from the probe as it spins out of sight. Then a second bolt of lightning splits the dark, and a third. The night comes alive with buzzing and sparks. My mind sticks, along with my body, until a hand is tugging me out from under the branches.

“Now’s our chance.” Neca has extricated me, and we are running in the general direction of the shield wall.

Everything is jolting and echoing, as if I’m watching myself from somewhere deeper inside. My legs pump. My arms swing. But I’m not in charge of them. The next thing I know, we’re in the open.

The lightning storm behind us continues—a probe battle. My stunned consciousness reemerges fully into the moment. Probes from New Teo must be battling those of an enemy patrol, rendering Neca and me of second importance, for now. If the enemy is too far away to provide sufficient telekinetic support, the fray will end soon. Too soon.

The shield dome looms fifty meters in front of us, rippling with heightened telekinetic energy. The battle has put the entire city on alert. My heart sinks as I consider what that might mean for Neca’s ability to phase through the wall.

The ground shudders, answering my earlier question about the proximity of enemy support. They’re close, and they’ve come to fight. The temperature of the air increases several degrees, steam visibly rising off my sweat-soaked clothing.

My father taught Olin and me that bridging energy from a massive telekinetic storm cooks the moisture from the air moments before it erupts. This one is big, at least twice the size of yesterday morning’s attack. “Storm’s coming!”

“Just keep running!”

Of course, I do. There’s no other option. Neca must know we’ll never make it. We’re twenty meters from the wall when the enemy strike hits. Ripples of purple and blue light form around us. Imploding, the bands of light rip past, absorbed into a single point on the dome. I wait for the telekinetic energy to explode outward, disintegrating all matter within its pulse radius—including Neca and me.

“Keep running!”

Somehow still alive, I’m a meter behind Neca, who is within a few meters of the shield wall. He doesn’t slow down. He’s not waiting for me. “Wait!”

“Don’t stop!”

How can I get through the wall without him?

He protects his face with his hands as he dives head first into the wall. No, through the wall. There isn’t time for me to stop. Bracing for impact, I throw up my hands and close my eyes.

A hot gust whips my braid from my back and scours my skin. Still moving forward, feet no longer in contact with the ground, I roll to my side. When the impact comes, it’s with the ground rather than the shield wall. I absorb the initial blow with my shoulder before rolling to a stop against another person. I open my eyes, and of course it’s Neca. “I thought you left me.”

“It’s Centavo.” Neca helps me to my feet while staring over my shoulder.

I turn to see the brilliant outline of a person as it passes through the wall. The mesh ripples with the colors of the rainbow, like oil droplets in water.

“Go. Huatiani is in the area.” Centavo’s voice has grown stronger than before, angrier. There is no doubt it’s the same old man. “I’ll be right behind you, after I clean up this mess.”

Beyond the mesh, he lifts his arms slowly from his sides.

“We have to go,” Neca tugs me.

I resist, unable to look away. “But he’s defenseless outside the city.”

“Centavo’s never defenseless, and if he tells you to do something, you do it. Come on.”

I hold out my arm, steam rising from it again. “There’s another storm.”

“All the more reason to run,” Neca thrusts me away from the perimeter roughly. “If Huatiani catches you now, you’ll never make it to Olin.”

I stumble forward, placing one foot in front of the other. Neca is right behind me, and despite my longing to turn around, I keep running. When the storm hits, I hear the whoosh same as earlier. Purple light dances in the sky above the shield wall. This time the implosion is followed by a release—one that shakes the ground enough to crack the joints of the adobe buildings within Worker City.

I’m certain the old man just died, but why? To save me and Olin? And if Centavo just died, that means Olin is alone, perhaps frightened. A frightened Olin means bad things.

“This way,” Neca darts into an alley.

Dizzy, I realize I injured my foot either on the ridge or in the forest. Every time it hits the adobe surface of the sidewalk, I slip on what must be blood. I’ve lost a lot over the last hour.

A sickening thought hits me. If Centavo left Olin’s side, maybe he was no longer worried Olin could lose control. Maybe it’s too late. Swallowing a knot of panic, I reject the thought. In a matter of minutes, we’ll be together. We’ll still be alive. We’ll still be family.

“Just a little further.” Neca’s voice grounds me.

I focus on his braid, swinging back and forth slightly with his running. Even tired, even injured, he continues to move smoothly. I, on the other hand, feel like a hobbled ox.

We reach the stairs. As Neca helps me descend them, he sees my foot. We both see the bloody footprints I’ve left on the steps.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

I want to refuse, but he’s not asking out of chivalry. I’ve already left a bloody trail for Huatiani to follow, right to the front of the building. If the old general finds it, the least we can do is force him to guess which apartment we’re in. I tear off the hem of my pants and wrap the material around my foot. When I finish, Neca swoops me up.

While not overweight, I’m not light either. As he navigates the maze of hallways, I am left with nothing to do except worry, and think of the irony. Less than a day ago, Neca carried my brother down the same darkened passage.

A day later, I’m still making demands of him. He’s still obliging without complaint. And still, I have no idea how I’ll ever repay the chadzitzin boy who’s already playing out the last years of his shortened life.